Israfel
She chuckled, a breathy, sensual sound. “I hardly consider an event like that as a soul-sucking evening, but then again, I hadn’t been the one on duty.”
The Music and Arts Festival almost felt like a lifetime ago, given all of the crap Novus had been thrown into in the months following such a jovial, peaceful event. What she wouldn’t give to go back to it, but time manipulation had never been her gift. There wasn’t any point in wasting her energy to wish otherwise, either, and so she just grinned broadly at the blue roan Warden with a knowing look shining bright within vermilion depths and pressed on.
Unceremoniously, she fell into step with him, golden hooves guiding her pale body effortlessly across the well-worn paths of patrols long traveled. The scent of smoke was like a perfume on the breeze, warm and welcome to one such as herself, although she had an inkling that to Ulric, the scent was probably wretched and unwanted. Between a raging wildfire or unrelenting thunderstorms and landslides, she knew which one she would pick, but that didn’t necessarily mean her opinions were mirrored in the mind of her morning companion.
Arching a brow and casting the roan a sidelong glance of curious vermilion, Israfel hummed once beneath her breath before answering. “You’re right. I didn’t… Although seeing you again was definitely a good incentive to join in on this trip.” Her answer was stated in a sarcastic, deadpan sort of way, but there was an obvious truth to her statement, especially when spoken alongside her mirthful, teasing grin. “I came as part of the medical envoy from Terrastella, to help King Somnus’ son. Turns out our creepy Champion of Healing and His Majesty have history.” Or something. Israfel wasn’t entirely too sure, because a lot of the conversation had been vague and had flown right above her head.
Whatever the history shared between those two had been, it hadn’t been a good one, judging by King Somnus’ lack of joy upon their initial reception. Regardless, Israfel did hope that Atreus could help the kid, but that wasn’t her responsibility.
“So, tell me, Ulric… Anything new or exciting in your life since we last talked? Maybe a lady-friend? Or, a man-friend, if you’re so inclined?” It was easy to tease Ulric, almost strangely so, giving that they really didn’t know each other well. Still, Israfel felt lighthearted in a way that she hadn’t in literal seasons. It was nice to just live and breathe and ignore the rest of the world, and with Ulric, with his dashing good looks and rogueish golden eyes, ignoring the world was the easiest damn thing she had ever done.
The Music and Arts Festival almost felt like a lifetime ago, given all of the crap Novus had been thrown into in the months following such a jovial, peaceful event. What she wouldn’t give to go back to it, but time manipulation had never been her gift. There wasn’t any point in wasting her energy to wish otherwise, either, and so she just grinned broadly at the blue roan Warden with a knowing look shining bright within vermilion depths and pressed on.
Unceremoniously, she fell into step with him, golden hooves guiding her pale body effortlessly across the well-worn paths of patrols long traveled. The scent of smoke was like a perfume on the breeze, warm and welcome to one such as herself, although she had an inkling that to Ulric, the scent was probably wretched and unwanted. Between a raging wildfire or unrelenting thunderstorms and landslides, she knew which one she would pick, but that didn’t necessarily mean her opinions were mirrored in the mind of her morning companion.
Arching a brow and casting the roan a sidelong glance of curious vermilion, Israfel hummed once beneath her breath before answering. “You’re right. I didn’t… Although seeing you again was definitely a good incentive to join in on this trip.” Her answer was stated in a sarcastic, deadpan sort of way, but there was an obvious truth to her statement, especially when spoken alongside her mirthful, teasing grin. “I came as part of the medical envoy from Terrastella, to help King Somnus’ son. Turns out our creepy Champion of Healing and His Majesty have history.” Or something. Israfel wasn’t entirely too sure, because a lot of the conversation had been vague and had flown right above her head.
Whatever the history shared between those two had been, it hadn’t been a good one, judging by King Somnus’ lack of joy upon their initial reception. Regardless, Israfel did hope that Atreus could help the kid, but that wasn’t her responsibility.
“So, tell me, Ulric… Anything new or exciting in your life since we last talked? Maybe a lady-friend? Or, a man-friend, if you’re so inclined?” It was easy to tease Ulric, almost strangely so, giving that they really didn’t know each other well. Still, Israfel felt lighthearted in a way that she hadn’t in literal seasons. It was nice to just live and breathe and ignore the rest of the world, and with Ulric, with his dashing good looks and rogueish golden eyes, ignoring the world was the easiest damn thing she had ever done.
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